


And So Life Continues...

by SV_Writer



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SV_Writer/pseuds/SV_Writer
Summary: I can't really think of a summary at the moment, but its basically a dark story about a viking girl who gets knocked up against her will and stuff.It gets dark at certain points, so read at your own peril. Bye.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	And So Life Continues...

Prophecies.

As far as Anma knew, prophecies were just empty words. Words describing a hope for future. A future that may or may not come. She didn’t know.

But people put such faith in them, it made her sick.

Her life had been governed by Prophecy since she was a little girl; She had been a normal girl until that point. She was the daughter of the village chief but that didn’t make her special. It was just a fact about her. She was still like any other child.

Then the soothsayer came.

He was a thin, scrawny man with a sickly appearance. He was malnourished but it didn’t look like he was particularly concerned by that. He arrived on a dark, moonless night. It was so dark that not even the stars were out.

Anma remembered it clearly; He seemed to just… emerge from the dark; Without a sound or indication of his presence. It was as if the world had gone still with his presence. It had been past her bedtime but she was still awake. Her parents didn’t know. She remained hidden at the top of the stairs, just obscured by the shadows enough for her to listen and look in on the conversations below.

The Soothsayer had requested two things; A place to rest for the night to avoid the wild animals and some food. He promised he would leave in the morning, at first light, if they granted him these small things. In return, he had offered whatever he had; The small animal pelts, the few bits of odd currency. He did not have much.

Anma’s father asked for knowledge. He wanted to know what destiny had in store for his daughter; for his bloodline.

The Soothsayer was silent at the question; Anma could see that he didn’t want to answer. Such knowledges were forbidden ones. Knowing them would never grant happiness. Such were the rules of the world. Even as a soothsayer, as someone granted with this extreme power to knowing the secrets of the world and understanding them, he was not privy to present them at his leisure. He knew that presenting such knowledges without necessity would only cause harm.

He knew that things would change when forbidden knowledge entered the world. Yet they would not change. For life would continue in the way it was meant to…

But the laws of duty compelled him to speak; He had offered whatever he had and he could not withdraw his word.

And thusly, he spoke; Their Bloodline would control the world. His Daughter would carry within her womb, a life; More powerful than any that had walked this dry ground before her, and this life would bend the world to their whims.

…Such was the fate of the world.

The Soothsayer left at dawn, as he promised; He didn’t say another word and he never returned to their village.

Anma’s father was a changed man after that night; Where there was once a peaceful man who worked for his people and his family, there was now a vile beast who’s only focus was death and power. Of course, it was not an immediate change, but that only served to worsen everything; Anma was forced to watch her father descend into a dark madness.

Her mother tried to talk to him; Tried to calm him down. They whispered in the night and then her mother accepted. She began to drool with relish as he spoke of his desires. Her movements became sinuous like a cat, as he wooed her with words of power, riches and lust.

Anma watched as her father gradually abandoned his daily fishing; He demanded that the smiths in the village forge weapons of war; Swords, Axes and Shields. All the fishermen slowly moved away from the fish and into the woods; Animals became their target and their primary food.

She watched her father spout the rhetoric of a warmonger; How they were meant to rule the world. How they were supposed to crush everyone else. How everything would be theirs.

She watched the rhetoric spew from his mouth and flood the minds of everyone; Men, women and children. She could only shudder as she watched the infection spread through everyone. Blood and war was the cry.

Men hunted and trained. Women began to support this violent behaviour. Children began to idolize. And they moved beyond the village. First, through land. Neighbouring villages fell in seconds, unprepared for this wild onslaught. Anyone and anything that resisted was butchered. The few that submitted were conscripted and infected within days and joined the ranks.

The barbaric army left a wall of corpses as it moved; Six feet high, it practically encircled their territory. Like an open grave, the stench wafted throughout and spread the infection; People grew violent. Animals grew wild. Death was everywhere.

Anma felt sick. She wanted the village back; The peace. The happiness. The love.

She tried to talk to the people who had been her parents; A warmonger and his whore. They both stank of blood. The blood of dozens of victims they had slaughtered in their quest for power. She tried to bring them back.

The fury they rained over her was immense; Divine almost. They beat her. They threw her across the room. They would’ve killed her.

But the Soothsayers words rang in their ears.

His Daughter would carry within her womb, a life; More powerful than any that had walked this dry ground before her, and this life would bend the world to their whims.

As long as she had not born child, she was needed. And she was still too young. And the child must be born. For life would need to continue in the way it was meant to…

So, they kept her locked away. A small gesture of mercy; For if she was free to roam, she would most certainly end up dead by their hands.

Anma was trapped in darkness. Her meals were small. The stench of her own filth slowly overwhelmed the stench of the dead. At times, she wondered if she was dying herself. Her body felt like it was fading away, being drowned in the hate she was being exposed to.

Respite came when The Warmonger decided to expand his conquest plans; The further they went, the stronger their foes seemed to become. They needed a way to strike the enemy where they were weakest and he knew just what to do; Utilize the knowledge his people had known before their barbaric days. Use the sea to their advantage.

They built massive ships of wood and iron; Intricate designs made them feel as if they’d been summoned from hell and in the darkness of night, illuminated by the fire from their crews, they would certainly carry that aura.

The Warmonger sent out the ships as soon as they were ready; He boarded with his whore and Anma; He would never let her out of his presence; Bound with rope and chains, she was necessary for the future of his plans. Anma understood this. She understood that this would be her fate.

Unless…

She remained aboard the ships as the barbarians disembarked and slaughtered everyone they could find. She remained on board and trained herself. She abandoned the weakness she had felt in the darkness. She knew she would get an opportunity and she would escape. She had to be strong.

She trained in secret, bound in her shackles, in every second she had to herself. Whenever the Warmonger looked away, she did what she could. But the chains remained steadfast on her body. Unbattered and unbroken.

The same could not be said for Anma; Her body grew strained from the training she put herself through. She grew bruised from the violence rained upon her. She struggled to maintain her sanity in her living hell. She struggled.

Then she came of age.

It was a dark day. Anma was taken off from the ship for the first time since she was brought on board; Dragged by her chains and shoved into a dark room; A deep panic grew in her chest as the darkness fell around her once more. She wanted to scream and claw at the door; beg to be set free. To be outside; Even onboard the ship as a prisoner. But she could do nothing but sit still, trembling and waiting for her end to come.

Then the door opened; And a man stood there.

Anma hadn’t seen him before; He was a tall, powerful and rugged figure. His body was marked with tattoos. He looked tired, but he had an aura of strength around him. He carried three things on his person; A sword, a shield and an axe. A warrior. He stank of blood and sweat; It made Anma shiver.

She watched him carefully remove his weapons, drop them against the wall, light a small lamp, close the door before marching over to her and glaring at her silently for a few seconds. His eyes looked sad.

It was as if the world was watching with bated breath.

Then he reached down and undid her chains.

Anma could only blink.

Then his one of his massive hands, pinned her arms down, while the other tore her clothes off.

Anma screamed.

The Man slapped her. His voice was deep and distant as he spoke; He was sent by the Warmonger. He was the greatest warrior in their army and he carried that badge with pride. He was here to imbue her with the child she was supposed to bear; A child to be born of strong blood.

She tried to kick, but he batted away her weak attempts. It didn’t take him long to pin her down, thoroughly. He did not waste any time, shoving his member inside her. For all his prowess, he had no talent in this matter and he came within Anma in seconds.

Several days went by in this manner; Every day, he would come, beat Anma and drip his seed inside her.

Each day Anma fought back less and less, until she lay immobile for him.

Each day, he took more and more time to enjoy himself.

On the tenth day, he was lying on his back with a stupid grin on his face, having cum for the third time. He wasn’t paying attention beyond playing with his cock, trying to get it hard for another time.

Anma used this to her favour by sneaking over to his axe. She wasted no time. As soon as it was in her hand. She swung and cleaved off his hand and cock with a single motion; The blade was deadly sharp and cleaved through flesh and bone with no effort.

The Man screamed. The scream made Anma flinch for a moment. But after that, she swung again; This time for the neck and the scream was stifled.

Anma didn’t stand around. She took the weapons, his over-sized clothes and she rushed out of the room. She left the ruins of the village as quietly as she could and left into the forest, leaving her old life behind. There was nothing left for her there.

For days, she ran, only stopping to sleep. She slept in any place she could hide; In trees, in caves, in abandoned burrows. She always kept the axe close to her to cut her throat in case she was found.

But they never came for her.

It didn’t take her long to get sick.

She knew, inherently, it was not a normal sickness. She had seen women in her old village. She knew how it was.

The Man had succeeded before his death; She was with child.

A dreadful feeling washed over her as she touched her belly; It had seemed flat but as she pulled her rags away from her belly, she could see. Just barely, it was there. That gentle curve that signalled the beginning.

She did not want this child.

Anma knew that if she hurt herself enough, the child would be lost. It would never bother her and as long as she never had a child, that Soothsayer’s prophecy would never come to pass. The world would remain free from the terrible empire of those monsters…

But…

She felt her hands wrap over her belly; She didn’t want to hurt the child. Even as she told herself that she did not want it, the idea of being a mother was something she had wanted since she was a little girl, ever since she had helped the other village women delivery babies.

And it made her feel less alone…

For so long, she had lost everyone; Her parents, her friends. She had no one to talk to. To trust or love or care for.

But this Child could change that… She wouldn’t have to be alone…

She swallowed deeply before covering up her belly again; It would be better to keep it warm.

And the child had to be born; For life would continue…

The next few weeks passed with gentle routine; She set up her home in a few small caves; They were sloped; Rain would not seep inside, and they would remain dry. Food was scarce. The trees were barren. Some roots were available, but she found that catching small birds and animals was the best for her. They seemed to move sluggishly around her, and they were easy to prepare.

Her rags were not suitable to wear for much longer; Instead, she took the large clothes that she stole from the Man and reworked them; Cutting them and fixing them with anything she could find; Thin sticks, fur and fibres. The clothes she made from his fit her better and kept her warm. She still wore her rags underneath; An extra layer, albeit a rather mild one.

She used a mixture of plant dye and animal blood to mark her skin; Marks of her gods. Of protection and hope. She prayed that these marks would be worth something.

Training was not a focus for her anymore; The unborn child within her made her think twice about straining herself. But she wouldn’t let herself grow weak. She would do whatever she could to remain strong.

The weeks gradually turned to months and Anma’s belly began to puff out slowly. Every time she looked at it, it made her feel odd. Happy and sad. Hateful and joyful. The mixed feelings were not pleasant, but there were better feelings amidst them; Warmth… Comfort… She could herself massaging and caressing her belly whenever she could. It made everything feel safer.

When the unborn child kicked inside her, it made her flush red. Knowing that the thing inside her was truly alive… It left her stunned. She could barely understand it. But she knew it was good.

Nature seemed to respond to her child; Animals seemed to come closer to her. The plants provided more food; Fruits seemed easier to find. She began to spend her days wandering; Interacting with the nature around her. Listening to the trees and speaking to the animals. It was particularly surprising when she found a bear. It was a gentle creature and it even slept in her cave with her for a night.

Gradually, Anma could feel the time come. The child was feeling ready. She knew that at any day, it would arrive. It was a chilling thought. But she kept up with her routine.

She wandered through the forest; She constantly adjusted the weapon in her hand. She felt jump for some reason. She couldn’t place it, but she felt nervous.

The cave was a new one; One that she had never seen before. Hidden behind a dense scrub, it was easily to see how she missed it, but now that she spotted it, she wanted to know more about it.

It seemed to go on endlessly. The path into it, was shrouded in darkness. A torch was needed, and months of living in the wild ensuring that making one would be no trouble; The real trouble was kneeling to make the damn thing with her belly in the way. But once the fire began to shine at the top of the branch, she marched into the tunnel without hesitation.

A void; That was what the tunnel felt like. The air within it felt untouched by any living presence. Like Anma was the first living being to step within these hallowed walls in its entire history. It made her feel a strange sense of reverence; The walls were smooth; Almost polished but warm to the touch as if they carried the memory of ghosts within them.

She found herself pausing every so often to just take in her surroundings; The path didn’t seem to change at all, but she couldn’t help but examine it. Feeling the light reflect off the matte surfaces it made her feel like there was a distinct energy within the tunnel.

After walking for ages, the tunnel ended; But where the tunnel ended, a hall began. A massive hall. It felt too big, like it couldn’t have existed where it was, but it did. The walls were dark and dark, but massive pillars grew into the ceiling; Pillars of white stone with purple moss growing on them.

Every step she took in the hall echoed with her heartbeat. The hall felt alive. There was a vague sense of danger, but at the same time, she felt safe. Like she was meant to be here. She could feel her baby kicking within her womb. Pleasant kicks, like it was agreeing with her…

Old metal torches hung in the pillars; The stink of oil was distinct in them and they caught fire easily. The hall was brightened with their help, but still felt dark, as if they could not fight the intensity of the darkness.

The ancientness of the hall made her swoon pathetically. There was something to this place. An energy that made her weak at the knees. She wanted to collapse. Give up entirely and let this place wash over her.

The kicks were like the beats of a drum; The drum of gods ringing in time with the earth. In time with her heart. In time with her body. She could feel everything. The blood in her veins. The sweat rolling off her skin. The dust on the ground. The leaves on the trees outside. The animals peering within the cave.

The cracks within the earth echoed in her mind; Cries from the deep calling out to her and making her tremble before their power.

Anma shivered. Her legs were cold with dripping fluid that stung her nose with its scent. Awkwardly, she hunkered down and began to claw at her clothes, trying to pull them off. The pain reverberated within her body as the kicks grew more frantic.

She needed to push.

It didn’t make sense. She remembered how women from her village would remain in labour for hours on end. Hours of agony. Yet, Anma could feel her body moving; Waves were running through her like lightning. She felt herself shiver and an unconscious groan left her mouth; The pain was escalating rapidly. It felt like her body was going to burst from the pressure. There was something deeper at work. The world wanted her baby…

Push…

Anma tugged at her clothes again; The filthy trousers she was wearing, would only get in the way. She undid the buckle and flailed weakly, trying to get them off, but only succeeding in getting them stuck around her ankles; Better than just leaving them on at any rate.

The air felt cold and menacing around her loins; It didn’t feel right to give birth on such unhallowed grounds. It felt as though it would taint the soul of her child…

Yet, she couldn’t stop herself.

She felt a scream leave her mouth; Echoing through the chambers around her. Her body felt cold and hot as she pushed; She could feel fluid dripping from her body as everything began to move. The waves of contractions racked her belly and made her grip it painfully, in a small attempt to try and calm it down.

She screamed again, this time marking the feeling of movement; The babe was slipping from her womb; Slowly and carefully, leaving its home and moving into the path to freedom. It felt so much larger than it was. She could feel her body twist and stretch out of shape to accommodate it; It didn’t feel good.

A third scream rang out into the dark environment; She could feel her sex bulge softly. It was time. It was time. She pushed for what felt like the thousandth time. She could feel the babe slip forward slightly, moving into the open air; Into partial freedom.

Without wasting a second, Anma reached forward awkwardly, trying not to press down on her belly to hard before reaching between her legs and feeling for the child; She felt it in seconds; A head… neck… the very tips of his shoulders. She fumbled for a few seconds, making sure she had a good grip on the child without hurting it before pulling slowly.

And it slipped out gently.

In seconds, Anma felt her body relax as everything moved back into its original place and she let out a gasp of relief; Echoes of contractions still moved through her body, but the relief was overpowering as she pulled her child closer to her chest. They were still attached by the cord. Both of their bodies were wet; Anma’s with sweat and the child with fluid and blood. The child was screaming at the tops of its lungs, yet it felt rather amusing to her.

Using one hand, she fumbled briefly among her clothes before tearing off two, thin pieces of twine. Not perfect, but she had little else. Using the twine, she tied two knots over the cord; One for her and one for the child before cutting it between them. The child’s cries were calming down as she snuggled closer to Anma; She had swaddled it in the same rags she had once worn; Again, a make-shift cover. She would need to use one of the animal skins she had saved from hunting as soon as they got out…

Her legs felt tired. She didn’t want to move from here, but she knew she’d have to eventually. She pulled down her top and exposed her breast, letting the child latch onto it quickly. The child felt strong. Not unnaturally so like she had expected. It just… it felt healthy.

Anma stared at it as it suckled; Smooth skin. Tiny limbs and dark eyes. It was a babe. Just a normal babe.

And yet… it wasn’t normal.

Even now, that feeling was not gone. The energy of the hall was still present. Beating in time with her. Beating for the child. There was something different about this child. Something… not yet clear.

It was like an itch at the back of her head that she couldn’t reach.

It felt as thought…this child had some power hidden within itself. A power that Anma didn’t know. A power that the child itself didn’t know.

The Soothsayer had foretold that Anma’s child would be the strongest; That it would bend the world to its whims. How it would do that she didn’t know.

She didn’t even know if it would do that.

The Soothsayer was just a man; She didn’t know if he was telling the truth back then. She didn’t know anything for certain.

She hadn’t known that her Parents could become monsters.

She hadn’t known that the village people would’ve become wild barbarians.

She hadn’t known that she would be forced to survive in the wild, alone…

But she knew. She knew this child was hers. She loved it and it was hers. She knew this child would be powerful. Its life would be filled with risk and peril. She knew the prophecy that she had once heard. She didn’t know how true it would.

Perhaps, the world would bend to it. Everything would fall before its feet. Animals. Plants. Monsters. Barbarians. Innocents. Everything.

Perhaps.

Or perhaps it would be normal. She didn’t know.

…And she was fine with that.

Anma just sighed softly to herself. The future didn’t matter. All that mattered was her and the child. She pulled the child closer in her arms before rising up and, slowly hobbling out of the cavern.

It would be fine to just let things go on as they should. No point in dwelling on the future. No point in trying to bend it and twist it.

Because that’s how things just were.

And that how things always would and should be.

For life would also move in the way it was meant to…

THE END.


End file.
